The Psalm (Revised)
by wahinetoa
Summary: AU Xover BtVS, HL & Poltergeist. What is stronger than death? A Slayer, Willow and her friends are about to find out. *final chpts added*
1.

Posting on Behalf of the author, with her permission.  
***  
  
TITLE: "The Psalm"  
  
AUTHOR: Nate  
RATING: PGR   
XOVER: BtVS, Highlander and Poltergeist:the Legacy   
SUMMARY: What is stronger than death? A Slayer, Willow and her friends  
are about to find out.  
Timeline: 6mths after Becoming2. Alt ending.  
  
DISTRIBUTION: Por Siempre...Kendra  
  
Characters focus: Willow, Angel, Buffy etc. PtL: Derek, Alex, Nick, Rachel etc. HL: briefly mentioned.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I'm not affliated with the television  
show "Buffy the Vampire Slayer", Joss Whedon, FOX,  
Mutant Enemy, or Warner Brothers. I'm not receiving  
compensation for writing this story.  
  
Authors notes: This isn't beta read, so expect lots of mistakes. We  
don't have the new episodes of Buffy yet, so in my universe,  
none of Faith or Buffy returning happened. I will continue in other  
stories coming up soon, in the same vein.. even though we're getting the  
new Buffy on Thursday. There is a new slayer, and I'm responsible for  
her. You'll see. ;)   
  
  
*********************************************  
  
"The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want."  
Ps 23.  
***  
  
Sunnydale cemetery by night.   
  
Thumb prints of tombstones juttered up from the ground below, inscribed  
with epitaphs of the fallen and beloved.  
  
A lone figure stands within the shadows, alone and without direction.  
Once upon a time, this baleful place would reverberate her senses, evoke  
inside her a passion and destiny she felt with everything she was, but  
now it lay dormant in her path. Gone. Forgotten.   
  
Stepping over fallen branches strewn over the path, she wished she could  
convey the compulsion she had to stay regardless of the powers stripped  
from her.   
  
She carefully threaded her way to the doors of the abandoned church and  
scrutinized her environment. Seeing no immediate threat, or impression  
of it, she then entered with tentative steps, every nerve standing on  
end. She hesitated on the threshold, one delicate dusky hand grasping  
the door as if it held her fate - her exoneration.   
  
And in a way, it did.   
  
With all those that would come to this place, she pondered their  
reasons. The Bishop in Sunday redemption - trying to impart morals  
before dinner time. The local business man who is trying to open a  
casino. A young tourist interested in architecture or a girl who's just  
been given the news she has cancer. Shelter from the rain, from someone  
and something. A place of confessions. A place for a wedding ceremony. A  
funeral. Lives that touched and continue to touch this place, and many  
like it. Under many names of sanctuary, they held the same thing.   
  
Absolution.   
  
With a decisive push off the stone wall, she entered the chamber, eyes  
straining in the semi-darkness for a glimpse at the Deus she had come to  
see, to love, to worship and to loathe.   
  
No longer seeking the death of her enemy, but her own.  
  
***  
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the  
still waters.   
****  
  
She walked from the arch doors down the center isle, her head turning  
from side to side, seeking the dangers only a precious few knew lay in  
wait. She turned slightly at the front to a grimly lit window on the  
side and looked up at it for a long time.  
  
Behind the cobwebs was a jumble of colored glass that depicted the dark  
majesty of Gethsemane, and in the center of the trees and flowers was  
the image of a beseeching Messiah dressed in a long flowing robe, his  
pale hands outstretched to an approaching Judas dressed the same, but  
coins falling from his hand like a bloody dagger..  
  
30 pieces of silver.   
  
She didn't think that her price could have been so simple as  
bloodthirsty revenge... but it was. Angelus. Gods, even the name was a  
seed of deep rooted bitterness to her. Had she given up her senses to  
honor a friend, when she didn't kill him the first time? Or the second?  
She had taken this brief gift of immortality out of yearning and  
incensed culpability for the events following her death, only to be  
denied. The first Slayer, Buffy, had already dispatched her forboding  
boyfriend to the hell he so richly deserved... the same one that she was  
now intended? She didn't want to think about it.   
  
She paced the floor in short bursts of agitation, agonizing to find her  
place in this new world. She allowed herself to feel a little of the  
bitterness at what was taken. Her parents, a life other than destiny and  
to know she was a woman instead of this stone sentinel always on guard,  
always with duty. A little bitterness gave way to the flood, and the dam  
gave way to the miasma of increasing regrets.  
  
***  
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for  
his name's sake.  
***  
  
Immortality. Desired by man, since the first death. Not knowing what  
evil she was, she couldn't return to her watcher or the life she knew.  
She had to stay away... but for him. Angelus, the one she had sought  
with everything inside that remained of her fading vampire senses.   
  
Now, she came to face him only to face herself instead. To the others,  
she remembered little of them, but that was secondary to the vow she had  
made.   
  
Revenge had been an empty gesture. Although the memory of Angelus' lair,  
the great Gothic mansion exploding in upon itself - warmed her a  
little... she still remained. And if not for revenge only, she was given  
life - then why? She dropped heavily on one of the front pews, suddenly  
exhausted. The remains of the last year replaying in her mind.  
  
***  
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,..."  
***  
  
The Horrors of death, were irrelevant compared to the terror of rebirth.  
Being entombed was a poisoness awakening. There wasn't a night, she  
didn't relive it.  
  
The darkness and wretched mire had closed her inside its sinister womb,  
trapping the body in a morbid paralysis. Multiplying screams and  
desperate pleas, had struggled from her throat, to whatever God or  
Goddess that could hear her. She had prayed could hear her.  
  
None had come to save their beloved. None remembered. This the life and  
death of a Slayer immortal.  
  
It was days before the earth submitted to her clawing and having no  
other choice, she bit into the earth and swallowed. Her body trembled at  
the horrors wrought inside her, but none that could vanquish the name  
she had carried to her deathbed. Angelus.  
  
Hellmouth, Sunnydale was in for one hell of a reunion.  
  
***  
"...I will fear no evil: for  
thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."  
***   
  
Not that she forgave herself. She had gone to Angels lair only to find  
that Buffy had finally put the demon where he belonged. Nothing remained  
whole or unbroken. The rampage doing a lot to quell the fury, but  
nothing to the sorrow she felt at being cast aside. Buffy had honored  
her with taking up her own destiny and then running from it. Part of her  
wished that she was there with her now, someone to lean on. To help  
her.. die? Not that she hadn't thought of that either  
  
It was a beautiful funeral pyre, homage to those that watched in  
fascination and horror. The blood sienna dawn was only enhanced by the  
fire claiming the once vampire lair of the fallen prince - Angelus. She  
stood amongst it, the flames quickly given a life of their own. She  
could have walked away, but in the end, she had no where else to go.  
Throwing open her arms she welcomed the embers and screaming inferno.  
  
No forgiveness. No mercy.  
  
***  
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou  
anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.  
***  
  
Was she the enemy? She didn't feel it.. could that be illusion? The once  
vampire Slayer walked haltingly up to the statue, impervious to her  
presence.  
  
She stared at him darkly, her mask of icy imperviousness crumbled to  
reveal the  
young confused woman that she remained inside, regardless of the  
momentous destiny she bore quietly. In her mind, she addressed the  
downcast figure.   
  
"Where are you now dat I need you most?" She accused, forcing herself to  
remain standing, even though her legs struggled to hold her up. "Where  
is de brimstone and de fire?," she quietly announced, her voice husky -  
strained and rough. "dat evil should not enter your temple and live? I  
am here, am I not?"  
  
"WHY am I here?", she asked more of herself than any one else.  
She laid the facts straight in her mind and sighed deeply. "I find dat I  
can no longer muster de spirit for battle. I feel dat I may someday  
endanger de lives of my watcher, and dose I have been entrusted ta  
protect. And I cannot let dat happen."  
  
She was greeted with silence. There the bitter truth.  
  
"You don't believe I want to die.. you tink I still want revenge, want  
anger and hate? Is that it?"  
  
Hearing no response, like the nights she made deals with him before, she  
continued on bitterly. "Is it.... Is it proof you need? Is dat it?" She  
ripped the coat she wore down the middle, exposing the skin over the  
heart. Angry purplish bruises covered most of it.   
  
"After I crawled my way from de grave, de only evil I created was da one  
inside deep regret. See? This is de faith you ask??... I would rather  
die than be de evil I had so long hunted." She pulled her sleeves up,  
revealing angry slash marks on her wrists. "Dis testament too, and  
dis.." she lifted her chin and exposed the throat, burned with a rope  
mark, "..and dis," lifting her shirt, she turned to show her back to  
unseeing eyes. Several bullet holes still able to be seen. A police  
barrage  
did nothing to slay. She was immortal.  
  
Her dark eyes turned back to the still and cold figure on the cross,  
beseeching him like he was to Judas depicted on the stained glass  
window. "What more do you want from me? What have I left ta give?" she  
responded equally decisively. She spun away, afraid of the anwser.  
  
***  
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me.....   
***  
  
She waited a few more seconds before whorling to face the crucifix, eyes  
blazing. Tonight, neither one of them were prepared for the emotional  
tumult that sent her tumbling down at last into the abyss of agony long  
contained. She came closer, etching out the details in the face. The  
lowercast eyes, the jawline set and the sacrifices she knew of too well,  
only to be betrayed at the end.   
  
"Where are you now dat I need you most?" His silence seemed to condemn  
her. *We shall be remembered, in spite of ourselves.* "You didn't, did  
you?" She took a moment to step away pained by the betrayal she herself  
would commit. Taking the hilt beneth her trenchcoat, she revealed the  
blade hiding there.   
  
"Consider -"  
  
She whorled around, the blade striking and glittering in the darkness  
like a scepter of death. In one foul sweep, she extended her position to  
punch her weight behind the downward cut lay waste to the statue.  
  
"...yourself -"  
  
Plaster EXPLODED into the air, the sound of something heavy falling to,  
then rolling a short way to the floor. She faced away, not daring to  
take in the sight... fearing what she might see in herself at that  
moment.   
  
"...reminded."  
  
***  
all the days of my life..  
***  
  
Fighting all the demons she invoked, she stumbled her way forward a few  
steps before staggering to her feet. She forceably made herself immune  
to emotion -  
it was her way to survive what she had just done, and would continue to  
do.  
The headaches began again, fierce and inescapable. Blood poured from her  
nose and mouth.. choking her where she stood.   
  
Only her eyes held the true horror of what she had done. Her expression  
was blank, her eyes never leaving the front wall leading out. Fighting  
against a wave of revulsion, she dropped the sword and composed herself  
enough to walk back from whence she came. As she reached the door, her  
head dropped into her hands. She was so tired, that she didn't see the  
figure in black slide through one of the doors and come to stand beside  
her.   
  
***  
and I will dwell..  
***  
  
The old rough hewn door swung on its rusty hinges and closed quietly  
behind him, leaving the silence of the cathedral to its dusty ebb. Only  
the headless statue, testament of the anger bestowed in her quest to  
die, up to the time that she found absolution in the arms of angry God.   
  
***  
..in the house   
***  
  
Her wish for the Angel of Death was still in her mind, as his hand  
touched her shoulder and her dark eyes starred helplessly into brown.  
  
**  
of the Lord  
***  
  
He took a few minutes to drink in the dark beauty and smiled  
tenderly, which failed to reach his eyes. She took the memory of them  
with her, as she fell over the edge of the dark abyss - into oblivion.  
  
"Kendra."  
  
***  
Forever.  
***  
  
End part one 


	2. 

***  
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into  
the past.  
The Great Gatsby  
***  
An hour before hand.  
Sunnydale graveyard  
  
The new Slayer easily blocked the fatal blow, throwing her left hook  
into action and she went for the face, only to be stopped by her  
attackers spin kick to her stomach.   
  
"Shiii.." The Slayer grimaced, doubling over. She threw a hostile grin  
towards Giles, her watcher, standing in the safety of the shadows. "I  
guess it's bad form to ask you for suggestions?" She hissed, punching  
the vampire in the face, twice, then knocking him against a headstone.  
Giles disapprovingly stepped forward. "I..uh, I told Buffy and now I'll  
tell you. Expediency is most important. Kill, then move on."  
  
The slayers eyes never left Giles, as she staked the vampire rogue and  
dusted herself off. "To your approval, Sire?" She asked somewhat  
exasperated at being ordered to do something.  
  
Giles regarded her cautiously. Things had swiveled so quickly, that he  
was at a loss what to say or even do. Of all the Slayers he could have  
picked, this one was no where near the list.. or even the hint of a  
list. Giles shook his head, he'd lost two since his arrival. Kendra who  
had been with them for such a short time and then Buffy... disappeared  
with or without Angel, for almost 6months now.  
  
"Better, but not quite there yet..." he chided, taking note of the tone.  
"I think we should retire. I want you to work on your precise spin  
kicks..."  
  
The slayer stopped, hands on hips glaring at the bespecaled man in front  
of her. "What?! What is *wrong* with my precise spin kicks?!" she dared  
him to speak.  
  
"Nothing really..." Giving his ward a reproachful look over his  
shoulder, "only, possibly... they're not so precise as more spinny"  
  
The Slayer huffed derisively. "Haven't you seen Xena, Warrior Princess?  
She spins like that and kicks out a whole army of Roman soldiers..."  
  
The Watcher stopped what he was doing and calmly met his prodigies  
heated gaze. "That is fantasy. This is real life, don't forget that.  
Buffy understood that mostly."  
  
Her eyes narrowed. More angry at his persistence to holding her up to  
the departing Slayer, Buffy, than the quibble going on there. She didn't  
want or need to be Slayer. She was quite happily being Sunnydales most  
unattainable love goddess. But when Kendra died, she was awoken to it.  
And since Buffy did the AWOL thing, she was it... to all, except Giles.   
  
And as he had reluctantly taught her, she had reluctantly learnt. She  
didn't know how to put into words what she felt, but it was stronger and  
more real than anything she had felt before, or would feel again. Her  
whole life changed, she changed and she so much wanted the one person,  
besides the slayerettes, to say "well done". Giles remained, maddeningly  
silent.   
  
Her dark brown eyes touched stubborn dark eyes, and that voice inside  
her closed tightly. She couldn't let him know how much he had hurt her  
with his distance, with his disbelief.   
  
"Fine! You want another Slayer? Go find your precious Buffy! I'm outta  
here..." With that, she started to walk away.  
  
"Wait!," Giles called after her, regretting the increase of tension  
between them lately, but still unable to stop it. "Wait," He shifted  
nervously from foot to foot, trying to figure his own careful reaction  
to the girls obvious accusation. "Look," he amended. "I, I know that  
things have changed, and the mantle has been placed..."  
  
She closed her eyes briefly.   
  
"...on," he continued, nervously cleaning his glasses. ".. the shoulders  
of all of us, feeling the way we do. But that doesn't mean that.."  
  
".. that we should let feelings over take us." She opened her eyes and  
sighed. "Our duty is to those we serve, not emotions that serve only  
us."  
  
Giles inspected his student squarely. She was a fast learner, and a  
fantastic fighter given her self-absorbed and somewhat fantastic life  
before hand. With the changes in the Slayerettes, the upheavals, and the  
mourning he still went through with Jenny, it had never been as much as  
hers. He couldn't deny she had changed most of all.  
  
Yet he couldn't say it to her.. it felt, somehow unfaithful to Buffy. He  
shook his head. When the Watchers asked him to look after her... he saw  
her more as a blunder in the ranks of the blessed, a inconvenience and a  
weight around their collective necks. He recalled well, how he had done  
everything in his power to renounce her ability. Of all the things he  
thought she would be, it had been unfounded and proved wrong. For the  
woman she had been, was nothing near the Slayer she turned out to be. He  
looked at her now, and felt his insides disquiet. She looked at him  
like... like a father. He wasn't a father, not to Buffy and not to her  
now. He couldn't bear to loose another.   
  
He didn't know how else to do it, but to push her away. To keep her at a  
distance, as he was supposed to with Buffy but he didn't. He loved Buffy  
and she was probably dead. He loved Jenny, and her grave was not far  
from where they stood. Pushing her away, would save them both.  
  
"I'll make you a deal. Only one going ever." He looked with hooded eyes  
in her direction, and she nodded, curious to the offer.  
  
"You give me the hours you watch Xena, to practice the accurate way the  
moves she uses, are used in real life, and I'll let you fight the way  
you want... with a few exceptions of course."  
  
She looked at him levelly. This was the first inch he had given since  
her training. Something was better than nothing, and she stuck her hand  
out to seal the deal.  
  
The action was instinctive, as soon as they had clasped hands.. an  
electric pulse shot through both of them. Giles shut his eyes briefly  
knowing he was going to let her in whether he wanted to or not. He  
opened his eyes, seeing the girl Buffy had been not so long ago.  
Insecure, frightened and for all the balderdash she hung up to dry as  
armor, she was just like the girl he now beheld. Giles saw Jenny in his  
minds eye, smiling back at him.. and instinctively placing the other  
hand on hers, his eyes spoke volumes, even though he couldn't say it to  
her.  
  
Suddenly the sky exploded into a 10 second holocaust, night made day by  
the dilation of fire and smoke. Giles and the Slayer hit the dirt, their  
arms entangled. "What the hell..!!!!" she screamed, awe struck by the  
explosion.   
  
Giles hastily picked himself and her up. "I.. I'm not sure. But it's  
coming from the direction Angels house is in. I think we better  
investigate... after all, you *are* the Slayer."  
  
She shook off the dirt and grinned. "Yes, Sir!" And with that, they both  
ran to meet the devastation head on.  
  
Cordelia, the Vampire Slayer was home.  
  
***  
It begins where it ends.   
A nightmare borne of deepest fears - coming to me, unguarded.  
***  
Sunnydale High School Library  
7am.  
  
She dreamed; dragging herself back from the unconscious world. She could  
feel the methodical world swim slowly towards her, but not fast enough  
for the visions to cease. She was exhausted.  
  
So much had changed. Yet of all the changes, hers remained the same. Willow Rosenberg  
was barely out of the wheelchair, but still not up to par on the vampire  
slaying thing. So Cordy took on, what she couldn't. And Willow took on  
the research and hacking while her body healed. Cordelia. In Buffys  
absence, duty still remained and she was at the forefront of it. A  
dramatic turn, something they all struggled with.   
  
Buffy was still missing after months of searching. Only a brief and  
mysterious phone call to cling to, that she wasn't dead somewhere. They  
still searched, but so far nothing. Giles had lost Jenny, and still  
mourned for the woman he so loved. Oz had disappeared with his band  
after a horrendous fight with her parents and with her, over her  
discovery of powerful Wicca ability. Spike and Drusilla had left  
Sunnydale. Xander hid more and more from her, although he and Cordelia  
seemed more close. And then there was Angel. She bowed her head and  
wept.   
  
It was as if her tears, triggered something in the nightmare and it  
began to drag her down faster and faster. Out of all this chaos, madness  
and emptiness - a small, lone voice called out to her, from the astral  
plain she had placed him into.  
  
"Willow, I believe in you." Angels voice touched her heart. "...and I  
always will." A glimmer of hope. It was all she needed.  
  
All darkness fell, but for the shadow she knew as Angel, and another  
that plagued her, since her Wiccan abilities manifested into something  
stronger. This ghost was the only one that came between her restoring  
Angel to the world of the living. Her promise to get Angel back had  
driven her from the wheel chair frame. She never saw the identity or  
called the shadow by name... until now.   
  
Before long Willow broke the unseen astral surface and launched herself forward  
into reality, capapulted the dawns early light. The nameless shadow, emerging into the  
physical.. her vengence shown in glorious detail. "Nooooooo!!"  
  
Willow scrambled across the room and crashed out of the doors. Her long  
sweeping dressing gown flowing behind her as she ran. The  
mansion and the sword, essential to success, was in danger of being lost  
forever. Even as she battled to make her legs go faster, the faint smell  
of smoke filled her lungs. Fear was like a hand over her soul, the  
fingers curled like claws, tight and inescapable.  
  
The streets folded out, revealing more of the destruction. Nothing was  
left but the burning skeleton. The cops and fire trucks had gone now,  
only a few stragglers stayed behind. She hurried over and searched the  
stone it had been embedded in. Nothing... the fire couldn't have done  
this much damage or destroy a sword? Without the  
sword - she couldn't do the spell. She knew who took it. Willow  
let the book slip from her hand, as her dreams went, literally, up in  
smoke.   
  
his voice soothed in her mind. Willow stood  
still, listening.   
  
Willow turned on her heel, the image of an abandoned church in her mind,  
carved like stone. Quickly walking away from the sea of ashes falling  
over the roadway, she knew where she could find resurrection.   
  
Tonight, Slayers were not the only ones with destinys to follow.  
  
***  
Later that same day.  
Midnight, on the cusp of a new day in the light of a hunters moon.  
  
Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. The rain ceased its temporary war, the  
clouds parting to reveal the scene playing out beneath the heavens.  
  
A circle of candles, the signs of the elements drawn upon the burnt  
earth, where the Gothic mansion once stood. Willow stood in the center,  
calling up the spirits of her brethren. Small smarks of light, ghostly  
and magically emerged from the dancing flames and rose on a pillar of  
smokey light around her. She spoke the words like a  
prayer, over and over, until she rose up against a battalion of stars.  
The sword emerged into the spill of moonlight between the dark rolling  
clouds above... the earth seemed to still, in horrific glory. As she  
held her hands up, the sword spun in a wide circle, the candle sparks  
drawing to the sword like a moth to the flame. Faster and faster, the  
sword swung in round circles. Moon light struck it like an arrow, faster  
until it was a blur of light. Beneath her, its mirror twin was reflected  
in the black ashen earth, and a vortex opened up like the mighty jaws of  
a nocturnal dragon.  
  
Willow found herself floating above a tornado's abyss. Lightening  
lashed, raising up from its black swirling depths. Something else, even  
worse than the vision, slithered upwards like an invisible python,  
coiling about her feet, legs and waist. Persistent horror thwarted any  
escape, dragging her, screaming, downward.  
  
Drawing the force inside her, her eyes opened to reveal two orbs of  
white light. The earth shuddered as she summoned the vampire to her.  
"Come dark, come light.. bring forth the vampire soul tonight!" Suddenly  
the maelstrom pulsed sending a barrage of thorns into the air. Some  
hunch made her duck. Reacting instinctively, she began to twist out of  
the way... and one of the sharp poisoness barbs hit. Her shoulder  
exploded with pain. The momentum of her attempt to avoid the volley of  
spears made her fall backward, her impact with the earth a hard one.  
  
Grimacing with the maddening agony, she rolled to her back and gripped  
the barb in both hands and pulled the offending spear from her shoulder.  
"GODDESS!", she screamed, the pain working its way through her body. She  
rolled to her side, throwing the barb somewhere in the ruins.   
  
"Willow!!!!!!!!"  
  
Willow fought the dizziness and scrambled to the edge of the abyss.  
Angels dark eyes starred back at her, his face contorted in pain. Her  
joy was momentarily overthrown by the menacing sound of the sword  
slowing down, and the vortex reflected below mimicking the action.   
  
"Angel! We have to get you out!," she screamed above the howling screams  
echoed as the vortex close. "Take my hand.. take it!!"  
  
Angel reached up, his body extended for last salvation. "Just a  
little_bit_closer_" she breathed, the vortex closing around him every  
second. "REACH!!"  
  
Skin touched skin. As if nature revolted against the aberrant rebirth,  
the dark ruins spontaneously caught on fire around them. The pyre  
reigniting to burn out the evil. Willow didn't hesitate, bracing  
herself, she pulled with all her might and Angel was lifted up by the  
backwash of closure, to crash down on top of her... the black whirlpool  
closing forever behind him. There was silence - ghastly and whole.  
  
With an effort, green mortal eyes opened to stare exhilarated into  
familiar *soulful* vampire ones. She was speechless, he the same. The  
fire throwing a specter of colors across the entangled two. Hecate, the  
Greek Goddess of Night, the goddess of the dark nights when the moon is  
hidden, patroness of witches and ghosts, was there with them in  
celebration. Nothing so strong as love - for it was the only thing that  
lasted beyond the grave. In the end, that celebration was quickly taken  
from them.   
  
"Angel?," Willow croaked through the pain, "has the sword fallen yet?"  
Angel flipped over on his back, causing Willow to cry out. Angel saw  
only the blade as it speed downward... a hand emerging from the night  
beside him and catch it before it severed his head from his shoulders.  
  
The disembodied hand was given form and shape, as she stepped forward  
into the light of the flames that continued to rage. The same blue eyes,  
the blond hair and unmistakable attitude. Both Willow and Angel could  
have been forgiven, for thinking that hell was not over quite just yet.  
Buffy brought the blade to his neck and smiled sadly. Bitterly.  
  
"Back so soon, lover?"  
***  
End part two. 


	3. 

Authors note: Forgot to say, PtL time line is just after Season 3. I'm making PtL three days ahead of Buffy.  
*****  
"The Phoenix rises from the ashes. Let it be known - we are undead."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
San Francisco Legacy House  
Angel Island  
  
Dr. Derek Rayne, Precept of San Francisco Legacy House, Biological  
Anthropologist and former University professor looked around his  
assembled team. To his left sat his head of security and ex-Navy seal,  
Nicholas Boyle. Next to him, Head Researcher, computer expert and fellow  
physic Alexandra Moreau. Dr. Rachel Corrigan, Medical physician and  
Psychiatrist of the demon fighting team, sat on the table twirling a pen  
in her left hand. It was to her, that the Precept directed his question.  
  
"How is her progress?"  
  
Rachel shook her head in bewilderment, rather than in dismay.  
"Astounding; to say the least," She slid off the table and walked around  
it to her precepts other side, talking as she went. "For a start, her  
physiological self shows a deep trauma of many attacks. Shooting, fire,  
drowning and hanging. The X-rays even showed a sliver of wood lodged in  
her heart."  
  
Rachel looked around at the confusion and shrugged. "I know. I know.. It  
had to be a mistake. But by the time we had another set of the x-rays,  
the obstruction was gone. In fact, that could be said for the marks and  
wounds as well. Impossibly her body remains free of scars, bruises or even  
blemishes."  
  
"Cool, the teenager got a secret wrinkle cream." Nick quipped. Rachel  
smiled indulgently, but continued unfazed. "Maybe. But you saw her when  
Phillip brought her in. Her entire body was scorched from her head to  
toe. Now; her skin is as smooth and healthy as a babies! The only  
testament that she was ever in a fire, is that her whole body is devoid  
of hair, though that will restore later." Rachel came to stand in front  
of them all, her fingers still nervously playing with the pen.  
"She's.... remarkable." she uttered breathlessly. "We found traces of  
dynamite under her nails, which was what probably came from a  
construction site where the explosion happened. And would explain the  
broken bones and cartilage. And I'm certain, I haven't even scratched  
surface."  
  
Derek frowned. He didn't like remarkable things that could endanger  
those he cared for most, and these people were the ones he cared for.  
"That sounds extremely *unscientific* Doctor," he challenged, curious  
for what she wasn't saying.  
  
Rachel raised her eyes sharply to meet the hazel eyes of her precept.  
Even after all the supernatural/paranormal events that she has seen and  
been a part of, Rachel was still very skeptical of believing in such  
things. She had been at times, openingly antagonistic towards her  
precepts 'outerwordly/demonic' explanations for everything that went  
wrong. Until now. Rachel stood her ground. "I haven't come to the tests  
yet. Her biology is obscure, but always in an unusual flux of repair.  
Her regenitive ability is unestablished - off the scale on any  
scientific level." Rachel slumped into a chair resignedly. "I'm  
completely at a loss. If I wasn't such a skeptic, I'd swear she was  
someone Mulder would run into."  
  
Alex and Nick grinned, much to the chagrin of their Precept. "Where is  
she now?" he questioned.  
  
"We moved her this morning from the infirmary to Phillips old room.  
Phillip will be staying with Nick tonight. Right?"  
  
The security chief nodded. "That's if I can drag him away from playing  
mother hen."  
  
Derek narrowed his gaze. "Make sure you do, Nick. I want him in my  
office as soon as possible - he has a lot to explain."  
  
Phillip's paternal instinct was on speed dial of late. He slept in a  
chair beside her bed and didn't let anyone but Alex and Rachel near her.  
The obvious deep bond between them, both a concern and intrigue.  
  
Derek had questioned whether Phillip would ever return to the Legacy,  
after choosing his faith and his sleepy Ireland parish above the demonic  
war The Legacy fought in obscurity. All that changed when he received a  
distressed call three nights ago. And frankly, Dereks curiosity to who  
she was, was peaking every moment. Besides his 'sight' showing him a  
myriad of confusing and damning images, something he had never felt with  
others, there was a extraordinary signet on the sleeping Jamaican beauty  
- almost pious.   
  
"What-else do we know about her?" He asked, severing the dark thoughts  
scrambling into his minds eye.  
  
"She doesn't exist," Nick offered helpfully, placing an extensive folder  
in front of his boss. "Not in any recorded history that we know of  
anyway. I've dug up Birth, marriage and death records all the way back  
to the 18th century and nothing. Her fingerprints..."  
  
"Whoa!," Alex and Rachel groaned in unison. "How did you get her  
fingerprints? Phillip would have killed you, if not myself or Alex"  
Rachel growled disapproving.  
  
Nick shrugged in way of apology. "The time when Alex was in the computer  
room and you needed a hand to lift her up.. her hand touched the  
stainless steal tray.."   
  
Rachel scowled. "The one you were so eager to  
take out and renew?"  
  
"Three guesses who put him up to it," Alex gruffed, turning towards the  
now sheepish Derek. Both men knew better than to obstruct or hinder  
either Alex or Rachel when it came to the ones they loved. Instead he  
met their steely gazes and kept his voice even and level. "That is no  
way to speak to your precept, ladies." Letting the last warning sink in,  
he turned his attention back to the Ex-Seal. "You were saying?"  
  
Nick quickly reported his findings, trying to avoid eye contact with  
both women. "Unfortunately, it's the same results. Police files, CIA,  
FBI - everything from small towns to Metropolitan abyss. She isn't in  
any system this side of technology."  
  
Derek stood abruptly. "Nick, get Phillip in here now."  
  
"Can't this wait, Derek?" Alex asked worriedly, standing before her  
leader anxiously tumbling a carved silver box in her hands.   
  
Derek raised a quizzical eyebrow in her direction. "No, it cannot." he  
reprimanded gently. "It's been 3 days since he brought her here. I think  
we're all entitled to hear the full story." He watched the dark Creole  
young beauty, frown in comprehension. He let his words take affect,  
before continuing. "And you, of all people, should know better than  
question my motives, when it comes to the safety of this house."  
  
Alex felt the unmistakable sting of a rollicking coming on. All that was  
missing of that sentence was a "... young lady. Now go to your room."  
Placing the box back on the shelf, it was her turn to raise an ire, she  
was as equally as immovable when it came to her friends. Most of all,  
for the man, Derek had called to his office today.  
  
"He is in no physical state for an inquisition," she warned, her eyes  
darkly menacing, before softening with her next words. "Whoever she is,  
she has to be really special..."  
  
".. she is." Phillip answered softly, surprising them all, as he came  
into the office behind them. He looked terrible and very pale, although  
he made an effort to not show it.  
  
Phillip made his way over to Alex and kissed her lightly on the cheek.  
"Alex," he whispered huskily in greeting, feeling her draw him near for  
support. "Don't worry," she whispered against his ear, *he's* been  
warned." Phillip smiled and squeezed her hand in thanks, as he went to  
the seat opposite Derek, smiling at Nick and Rachel, and wearily sat  
down. "Derek." he acknowledged the older man behind the desk. "You  
wanted to see me?"   
  
"How is she, this morning?"   
  
Phillip and Alex were thrown off kilter. They expected the full  
inquisition, since this was the first time he managed to get Phillip to  
stay still to answer his questions. "She's doing a little better,"  
Phillip responded hesitantly, wondering when the other shoe was gonna  
drop. "Actually, she's on her own at the moment, I was wondering..."  
  
Rachel and Nick were both on their feet before he could finish. "Don't  
worry, we'll take care of her." Rachel smiled warmly at him, as they  
made their way out. Phillip sighed in relief, turning his attention back  
to the remaining two. Derek wasn't one to beat around the bush.   
  
"It's good to have you home, my friend." Derek began, the obvious  
tenderness in his voice reflected in his eyes. "I just wish it was on  
more happier circumstances than the young ladies..." he frowned at his  
own statement before quickly continuing. "I dislike having to call her  
'young lady', does she have a name?"   
  
Phillip grinned, there was that shoe. "You're having trouble finding her  
in the records, Derek?" the young man chuckled. "Kendra... that's all I  
know her as, so don't press me for another. She never gave it. I never  
asked."  
  
There was only one mystery in this house, and it had always been their  
unfathomable Precept Mr. Rayne. Now there was another, and they didn't  
even have a second name? Alex came to sit beside him, her inquisitive  
nature taking over. "Very 80s. Where did you meet?"  
  
He fought with what to tell them. He didn't want to lie, but he couldn't  
tell them the entire truth either. Slayers and their mentors were  
sacred. Their lives were secretive and meant to stay that way. But  
Phillip knew he could trust Alex and Derek. He had to tell them  
something. Carefully, he chose his words.  
  
"I first met Kendra at the Vatican in Italy a few years ago. She was  
researching Demonology in the original chronicles..." Phillip stalled,  
his eyes looking deeply into the inky soulful deep of Alex's eyes and  
knew he didn't have to play this game out to the bitter end. "You know,  
don't you?"  
  
Both mens gazes turned to the Researcher, who nodded in reply. "My  
grandmother rang me the eve you brought her to the house. Grandma Rose  
knew who Kendra was, and some of who she is now. As I have for some time."  
Alex's eyes fluttered closed, summoning the memory  
from long ago "The nightmares I have been having lately..."  
  
"... Kendra has become something more than ever was intended."  
~~~~~~~  
Nick watched her sleep, or the facsimile of it. She lay in a tight ball,  
twisting with the nightmares of some unknown horror. Nick called out to  
Rachel, who was busily else where. There was something about her that  
made him feel.. what was the word? *Wiggy* would be a good term. As he  
came closer, her eyes fluttered. He reached for the 9mm tucked away in  
his shoulder holster. As security and researcher, he didn't stay alive  
by being unwary. The dark angel was about to make an appearance.  
  
Kendra woke up cold, wrapped in terror as penetrating as the darkness  
that swallowed her. The memory creeps back as she holds her breath,  
listening for a heart-beat. "Where am I?" she asked of no one in  
particular. Nick responded instinctively, gathering his alertness in  
case of trouble. "It's all right. You're safe. Lie still, you need  
rest."  
  
Her clouded mind, heard something, perhaps a name of her protector?  
"Who?"  
  
"Angel.." Nick was mid response when he was abruptly slammed sideways  
off his feet and brutally flung across the room. Nicks body was thrown  
against the wall, his bones slightly crunching on impact. The attack was  
so fast he never saw it coming.  
  
Her initial movement made her head throb like thunder, she tried to get  
out of bed, her muscles screaming inside her body. With a groan, holding  
her head together with both her hands, she slowly righted herself to  
stand. Ready as always, for the next attack.   
  
~~~~~  
  
The noise upstairs alerted the others to the commotion. Alex, Derek and  
the now wide awake priest bolted toward the foyer steps leading up to  
the bedrooms. Suddenly Nick came tumbling down the stairs backwards, and  
Alex ran to him. Rachel followed Nick under her own steam, backing down  
the stairs hands raised in submission. When Rachel reached the end of  
the stairs, Derek put a protective arm around her waist and pulled the  
Doctor into his arms. All eyes turned to her, the familiar dark skinned  
beauty following in the wake. Her body coiled like a spring, a suddenly  
dangerous entity. If not for the fact she wore Dereks PJ top, which  
reached her knees, and made her look like a fragile kid playing dress  
up, Derek would have shot her down already.   
  
Kendra took in the surrounding group. The one she had knocked down the  
stairs, was about 28years old, lean and mean. The 9mm that he pulled on  
her, showed he had tactical and assault training. From what little she  
saw of his moves, she guessed Naval or Army brat. There was also  
something else.. it was a disagreeable aura around him. Her eyes  
narrowed pointing in his direction. "Ya got de mark of de Nosferatu..  
but ya ain't been taken - yet." Her gaze slid to the dark haired woman  
kneeling beside him. The shock of meeting the dark angels eyes briefly  
turning her knees to jelly. She was kindred. Creole or Haiti.. borne of  
Aeons and the blessed. Early 30s, beautiful, dark mocha skin and around  
about 6ft. She was also lean, but the aura off her was different, and  
the same as the man she tended to. Her accusing direction now lay upon  
Alex "And he got *your* mark on him, huh?" Kendra looked more like a  
cornered and frightened child, than the leader and exalted Phillip knew  
her as. She leaned heavily against the railing struggling for breath.  
"Dis primogen vampire been busy, non?" She breathed heavily.   
  
A movement on the stair, made her focus on the next. She heard one of  
them call her Rachel. She was in her early 40s. Blond and blue? eyed. If  
Barbie ever grew up, she would probably look like her. There was also  
something else.. she was good this one. Maternal maybe. A doctor too, if  
the perfume, on the bandages were anything to go by. Her gaze slid past  
to the man opposite.   
  
The images and feelings she had were intoxicating. The power he held was  
enough to numb all her senses and throw her off balance. He slowly came  
forward, hands raised in supplication to show he held nothing in them.  
Her eyes touched his with confusion, a slight recognition sparking a  
memory. "Father Callaghan?," she whispered in hope and her own shameful  
humiliation, before falling heavily onto the stair. He gathered her  
carefully in his arms, trying not to hurt her as he pulled his coat off  
and wrapped her up inside it. Her voice was low and defeated, and it  
tugged at his soul like a Spanish guitar. "Who am I?"  
  
Phillip, pulled her closer as her head rested on his shoulder. Alex's  
premonition and words came back to him, and he understood why he was  
sent to The Legacy in the first place. Whether by fate, or free will, or  
prophecy.. he knew where he finally belonged this time. "I don't know,  
lass." he replied tenderly, soothing her brief sobs away. "But I say we  
stick around to find out. Aye?"  
  
***  
End chapter 3 


	4. 

"Your friends reflect who you are. Your enemies determine who you are  
not"  
  
"The Phoenix rises from the ashes."  
~~~~~~  
Willows POV  
  
"It seemed like a lifetime, before they noticed I wasn't there. My name  
is Willow Rosenberg, and I watch the people I love most in the world,  
disintegrate before my eyes."  
~~~~~~  
  
"She's NOT breathing!!," screamed Cordelia, leaning over the still  
figure of Willow Rosenberg. Giles and Xander, temporarily forgot about  
Angel and rushed to her side. Buffy stayed her ground although she  
wanted to be with the rest. Angel made a move only to be stopped with  
the threatening saber held by his true love. "Stay where you are, Angel.  
We're not finished yet!"  
  
Panic seemed to fill the air, as Xander suddenly removed himself from  
Willows side, and jumped the prone Angel. He slammed his fist into  
Angels face, grabbing him by the lapels and hauling him to his feet.  
"What did YOU do to her, you son of a.." he yelled, fear rolling like  
waves around him. There was a desperate urgency to both men. Angel could  
only look at him dumbfounded. "Nothing! I, I..."  
Xander's eyes narrowed and he was about to take another punch, when  
Cordelia stopped him. "It's the barbs!" She cried out, before Willow's  
body was in the grip of a spasm, so violent that Giles called Xander  
back to hold her down. He let go of Angel, with a snarl, allowing him to  
fall back hard on the ground.   
  
Buffy held the sword in her hands tightly, a grim look turning to one of  
panic, as she watched her best friend loosing the battle for life.  
"Giles," Buffy gasped, when Willow finally settled. He felt for a pulse  
at the neck, then came down and searched for one on her wrist.  
"GILES!!!", Buffy called out, her voice a panic driven shriek. "Damn  
it!!". Giles hissed, as he stripped off his coat quickly, before he said  
anything. "Buffy, stay there, if this goes wrong we may need Angel after  
all." Then while the others looked on confused, he looked at Cordelia  
and Xander in distress. "Which one of you knows how to do CPR?"  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
A primeval castle  
Angel Island  
San Francisco.  
  
Dr. Derek Rayne, looked over the  
sprawling estate. 650 acres of the most exotic gardens. Phoenix palms,  
native ferns and Rata trees threw a dappled splendor over the lawns and  
quadrant outside the window of his very own personal San Francisco  
Island. To be precise - Angel Island.   
  
Usually, this inticing view helped to clear his mind. But not  
today. Thoughts turned to his friend, Father Philip Callaghan and the  
girl he had brought into Legacy House.  
  
His peace of mind was unsettled by the events of the last few days. In  
particular the Jamacian beauty named only "Kendra". He had had a chance  
to speak with her on brief occassions since her arrival and found her to  
be every bit as intriguing as he knew she would be. And frankly, Dereks  
curiosity to who she was, was peaking every moment.   
  
A hand gently rested on his shoulder, unexpectedly severing the dark  
thoughts scrambling into his minds eye. He turned slightly to see his  
prodigy, Alexandra Moreau, smiling somberly back at him.   
  
"You know who she is, don't you?" She said feebly, the knowledge of  
'sight' making it unnecessary for either of them, at times, to guess at  
the outcome or not know the dangers they met. Derek simply nodded,  
turning back to the window. "The Vampire Slayer? Yes. I was unconvinced  
until a few hours ago, but now there is no doubt in my mind. To what she  
is now, however, I am still uncertain."   
  
Their conversation was interrupted by Phillip walking in. "You wanted to  
see me?"  
  
Derek motion him to sit down, to which he did. Alex waited to be asked  
to stay, which Derek did silently, motioning for her to sit opposite  
himself.  
  
"Where are Rachel and Nick?"  
  
"They stayed with Kendra, while I came down." There was a moments  
hesitation, as if he debated the next question. "You know what she is,  
don't you?"  
  
"What she was," Derek corrected gently, watching with concern, the  
handsome young mans features be drawn into a myriad of confusion.  
"Philip, this is important. If the chosen can *seem* to be compromised,  
we are in need of the whole truth to help her, you, and us as well. You  
don't have to carry this alone."  
  
The Precepts words touched his heart, but he still debated his loyalty  
to them and to her. In the end, his decision was already made. "What do  
you want to know?"  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Willows POV  
"The fire is gone, put out by the tears that are shed. I feel the astral  
plain slow and ebb around me - calling me to destinations unknown. It is  
then, that I push from this mortal coil and find my way home."  
~~~~  
  
Sunnydale, Angels burned Mansion.  
  
15 minutes passed. "One thousand-one. One thousand-two, One  
thousand-three.." Giles counted out the CPR thrusts, before Xander  
breathed a puff of air into Willows mouth and down into her lungs. "One  
thousand-one. One thousand-two..."  
  
Cordelia threw the phone to the ground. "The lines are down!!, I can't  
get through!" Buffy erupted into anger. Xander held back his tears as  
best he could, but Giles was loosing the battle and he dared not even  
look towards Buffy. His world narrowed to his friends breathing. He lent  
down, his mouth barely inches from her forehead, placing a kiss there  
and a wish. "Breathe, Willow. Breathe."  
  
Giles cast a quick glance at Angel, backed into a corner with Buffy  
shaking, barely standing guard. He didn't know how to tell her, that the  
sweet girl they struggled to revive - had already gone.  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
Angel Island  
San Francisco.  
  
"My grandmother rang me the eve Philip brought her to the house." she  
explained. "Being from New Orleans, children knew well of the Vampyres,  
Demons and Warlocks that lay in wait for them. We were breastfed on the  
nightmare legends and ghost stories told to us to make sure we did as we  
were told, as only bad children would get taken away. Of course that  
wasn't true. But in these tales, these wild and dark desires, the hero  
would always be the chosen one. None of the children would know who it  
was, but they knew she was protected by the elders of every village,  
every city and town. Nan told me, the night she arrived, that it was now  
my turn to look after her. The Chosen."  
  
"I don't like the sound of that" Derek asked, leaning forward with  
worry. "What did she mean by 'up to you to look after her?'"   
  
Alex sighed. "I never truly believed in those legends, but when I got my  
'sight' I soon did. Those old folks, the mages of our community who were  
always frightening to me as a child.. who represented 'superstition and  
nonsense' when I was a knowitall teenager - were the heroes and heroines  
that kept us from harm. And I knew I would be apart of that."  
  
"You *are*." Derek insisted, taking her hand in his to affirm his words.   
  
Alex met his eyes sadly. "If the future holds just a little of what  
Kendra is to face.. then I have not yet begun. You see, Nana wasn't  
placing Kendras safety and security on my shoulders only..."  
  
Alex' eyes sparkled brillantly, speaking volumes of her certainity. "She  
was speaking of all of us, including the very ones she has reason to fear."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
Sunnydale.  
  
"NNoooooooo!" Buffy cried out angrily, as she dropped the sword and  
rushed to Willows side. Giles tried to hold her back, but it was no use.  
It was Cordelia who restrained her. "Buffy! Damnit, would you listen...  
Angel is her only chance!", she argued, trying to calm her fellow slayer  
down. "If Angel can stop the poison, he can reverse her shutdown." Buffy  
stopped fighting, but she looked like she'd just been slapped.  
  
Xander came beside his friend, caught between revulsion at what he was  
about to suggest, and desperation for his friend who lay dying. "Look,"  
he sputtered crossly, "you don't think this is tearing me up inside? You  
don't think that Giles is going through hell after what that 'monster'  
did to Jenny? To Kendra? - to you?"  
  
Buffy shook him away outraged. "She'll be a vampire! Have you thought of  
this?!" Giles was beside her then. "Yes, and no. If Angel can drain her  
blood with the poison in it, we can replace it with the pints of her  
blood that was taken today, for the blood drive, she will only be  
half-immortal. Amy has the power to curse her with a soul, if she has  
lost hers on awaking. But she will be alive!"  
  
Giles gathered her to him, and Buffy surrendered everything. Angel was  
allowed to kneel beside Willows still body. He took her up into his  
strong arms and let her head fall back, revealing her neck. Closing his  
eyes - he morphed into vampire face and descended. Truth,  
inescapable. Xander held Cordelia and they wept together. Giles held  
Buffy, buried in each other arms pretending not to see. Only Amy stood  
vigil and witnessed the most horrific and beautiful thing of all. A  
vampires tears, talking life.. and giving it in turn.  
~~~~~~~  
Willows POV  
  
"I am here.. on an island that bears his name. It is cast in stone and  
ruled by this age of knights honor. She is here also, and above her - I  
take my place. She knows that I am I near, in the way that only Kendra,  
The Slayer can know. Her senses were always more refined and tuned to  
the paranormal because of her isolation and training with Mboto. She  
paces like a caged panther, back and forth in Phillips small room.  
Anxious. Nervous. I settle on the bed, unseen by her but 'felt'. I  
wonder if she can hear me? And what I could say to make her realize that  
the guilt and darkness she is feeling is because of me. That if she had  
not cursed Angel and came for revenge, I would not have had the sword to  
open the portal. That if not for her dried blood on the sword, which  
bonded him to the earth and to her, that he would have been sucked back  
into hell. And that now, a few miles away in Sunnydale, our actions  
caused my heart to stop and destiny to change course. Angel is trying to  
save me and unknowingly, bonding me to him, as he now is bonded to  
Kendra. Three of us making up the unholy truce. Kendra; his immortal  
enemy born to take his life. Angel; reborn as a vampire, reborn as hero.  
And myself, Willow, Wiccan mage and friend, made to stand between them.   
  
Even now; Angels dark blood is pouring back into my body and this soul  
that is with her, must return to battle for the Willow vampire in  
Sunnydale. And with his dark blood, I feel Kendras life force seep into  
my bones making me stronger.   
  
It is as if that triggers in her a weakness. She halts and crumbles to  
her knees on the floor. I realize that I can feed or starve her by being  
so near to her, causing our bond to draw from. I finally have a way to  
make a difference to the woman I owe Angels and my life too. I have  
little time though. Angel calls me.  
  
Concentrating hard, I let her see, her honor didnot die with the Slayer  
all those months ago, or even at the church three days ago, when she emerged  
as the very immortal creature she was destined to hunt - it remained  
as she sought both revenge and then redemption. And it shone like a  
guiding light, when she helped others to find theirs in her journey to  
Sunnydale.   
  
And if Kendra chose to take the offer that was being talked of, down stairs  
right now, she would surpass even that which the Slayers council could  
dare imagine. Hope prickles beneth her beautifully dark skin, as I'm  
carried away back to my newly awakened Sire.  
  
Angel calls.  
  
It is not until I am back in Sunnydale, near my broken body - that I  
feel myself scream into life once again. Only then do I discover, it may  
have been Angel who called..   
  
..but it was Angelus who replied."  
  
End part 4. 


	5. 

*****  
"When we lose a friend, we lose more than that, we lose a part of  
ourselves. A part of our own past. But sometimes we also find something  
new – a deeper appreciation of the friends that remain and of the bonds  
only time can forge." Derek's Legacy Journal entry in "Someone to Watch  
Over Me."  
*****  
  
Slayer Watchers Journal  
1997  
  
Of all the battles we have raged since Buffy first came to Sunnydale,  
this one, was the greatest we could ever wage. Not with the Demons or  
the vampires.. but with ourselves. We lost a friend this night, a dear  
sweet girl called Willow. And we hold the guilt and shame of that moment  
with us for always.  
  
It was unmarked, in any journal, the way she died... only this true  
testament to rewriting history. The most common way to become a vampire,  
is to be bitten and drink, of your own free will, the blood of the  
vampire. There have, of course, been other ways that have been  
documented, but none substantiated past the locked chronicles of the  
Rom. In one such ancient bound text, it is given that two such kindred  
spirits were brother and sister, taken by a vampire. One the vampire  
primogen made immortal, but the other he didnot. When the brother awoke,  
he was devastated. Taking his first kill, he fed her by slashing a vein  
on himself, then her, and placed the wounds together. His vampire blood  
mixed with what was left in her veins and she was awakened. A bonding  
ritual between children, called the 'blood oath' is still practiced  
today, but not in the breathtaking horror it occurred.   
  
As planned, the newly restored Angel drained the infected blood from  
Willows body - leaving it a pure chalice for the blood that awaited her  
at the School clinic. When he had fed, his strength would allow him to  
take both Willow and Amy, quickly to the laboratory and transfuse as  
soon as possible. We would follow and Amy would set things up for the  
spell. I did not plan for what came after - none of us saw past Willows  
recuperation.  
  
Perhaps that was my mistake. I know, in some ways, Buffy and the others  
place a greater part of that blame on my shoulders.. No more than I  
deserve. Regardless of what brought us here, or what consequences came  
after - I alone had control and chose the path that lead us to this.   
  
The first confrontation was apocalyptic. Willow was awakening on our  
arrival, the transfusion had been successful. Relief on her recovery,  
suddenly turned to fear as her smooth English porcelain skin became that  
of a monster vampire emerging. Amy had the spell with her, but through  
the ensuing chaos of keeping Willow there in the Library, the book was  
kicked like a football across the room beneath the large stacks. If not  
for Angel, we could not have possibly restrained her enough to allow Amy  
to contend with a spell that no longer worked. For days we kept her  
chained in the sewers in the day, and at night in the cage in the  
library to help find the spell that would work. Amy thought that she was  
some place that could not be reached.. a possible bond that was equal  
and just as strong, if not stronger than the one she now shared with  
Angel. By chance, Amy thought the sword used in the first spell was  
needed to bring back the soul of Willow. Thank the heavens, she was  
right! But in doing so, she was still a vampire and had to feed from  
Angel.  
  
Our Willow returned to us, and in that moment - was lost. Relief,  
finally gave way to a mixture of grief and anger. In banishing her, we  
had banished the light.  
  
We wait for the darkness to pass.  
Giles, former watcher.   
  
Sunnydale High School Library  
10pm, Friday night.  
  
Two years later.  
  
The watcher's dark eyes studied Buffy, remembering and trying to forget.  
"She wants to see you."  
  
Buffy laughed bitterly. "Yeh? Well, I got nothin' to say to her."  
  
"She's been gone a year, on her own and no one to be with." Cordelias  
voice carried to her from one of the empty tables. "You remember what  
that was like? To be so alone? Are you so sure you got nothing to say?"  
  
"I'm not sure of anything, anymore." Buffy sighed heavily, struggling  
with the vast changes since that fateful night. "But just because you  
all forgave her, doesn't mean I will too, because Angel brought her  
back." Buffy turned, seeking her only support on this, who was being  
uncharacteristically quiet. "Xander? Back me up... would you forgive  
Angel?"  
  
Cordelia scowled in his direction and he made a face in protest. "Hell  
no!," he defiantly affirmed, then his expression changed slightly. "But  
this is Willow we're talking about.."  
  
"Willow the vampire disciple." She corrected vehemently. "Guess who we  
have to thank for that?"  
  
"To be fair, Angel saved her life that night..." Amy began, perched on  
the table beside the rest. "It was just a bad chance that her blood and  
his were assimilated through his tears."   
  
"Why does everyone find it so essential to remind me of that?" Buffy  
growled, coming down off the steps and grabbing her coat making her way  
out toward the doors "Or did you conveniently forget that he was also  
the reason why she is the enemy now?"  
  
"Is that what I am now, Buffy?" A voice, so sweet in memory as it was  
now, reached out to the Slayer and tore her heart open. She turned to  
see her standing there. "Am I now an Enemy?"   
  
Giles waved off any further comment to the group, a signal that they  
would go. As Amy, Xander, Cordelia and Giles they filed out, Giles  
placed a comforting hand on Buffys shoulder, and smiled gently in  
Willows direction before disappearing into the hall ways.  
  
A shudder passed through her like the claws of a nocturnal ghost. Buffy  
stilled her vampire instincts to hunt, at that moment, and stood  
immobile unable to distinguish anything but the figure slowly moving in  
the hallway. She waited and hoped, feared and hated the moment that had  
long been overdue. She wanted to rein down blow after crushing blow on  
Angels chest for what he did, for what *she* did.   
  
Buffy sighed deeply, allowing the figure to approach without qualm or  
fear. Buffy spoke the name as if it would alight her from the misery she  
had been in ever since. With revelation, her name touched Buffys lips  
for the first time in almost two years.   
  
"Willow?"  
  
****  
The Legacy castle  
Angel Island, San Francisco.  
  
Derek stood against the huge leaded windows of his office, & observed with  
increasing forboding as his Security officer, Nick Boyle and the newest  
'unofficial' member of The Legacy, Kendra, worked religiously on their  
own personalized routines of Tai Chi, in the lower Italian gardens of  
The Legacy mansion enclosure. An awful Deja Vu feeling crossed across  
his heart, as though parts of an icy jigsaw were now sliding firmly into  
place.  
  
A gentle hand on his shoulder, brought him from his dark thoughts.  
  
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Rachel smiled her own admiration of the  
teenager clearly visible. Even after a short time, he could see the  
connection between Rachel's maternal instinct to protect the "girl"  
Kendra still remained inside, in the body of Kendra - the woman. In  
saying that, he was mildly surprised that Kendra's quiet and childlike  
innocence brought out the paternal note in him also. The fact that she  
had, unintentionally, a kittenish-pout when perplexed was a key point.  
Her maturity that only came from deep loss, and the feeling she was  
somehow kindred orphan also drew him to her. Her physical fitness was  
still terribly fragile from starving herself for so long, but as she  
filled out, her health and well-being rewarded her to her former glory.  
Her hair had grown back, just kiss curls at the moment, but enough to  
keep them slicked back looking like a 1920s Jamaican femme fatale. "Now  
if we can just stop Nick from having a detrimental influence on her, she  
won't get us on the FBI's most wanted again." he grinned.   
  
"More like her detrimental influence on him!" Alex grumbled, a tinge of  
jealously hinting at the deeper truth there. After a few moments, Alex  
Moreau, turned to face her two friends, witnessing a cryptic glance  
between them. "What?"  
  
Derek merely raised his eyebrow, and settled in for the meeting,  
wavering her question. "So, without Nick for a while, and of course  
Philip for obvious reasons. call this an impromptu poll. Do we have room  
for another Legacy member within the ranks?"   
  
***  
  
The meeting was useful, and Derek dismissed them until all the team  
could be gathered. Taking the coffee placed on the corner of the large  
polished desk by the Butler, he turned his attention towards the still  
ambitious two working out on the lawn.  
  
He briefly noticed Nick had stopped his training, and now watched her  
intrigued from the stone bench. Derek groaned, he didn't need to be  
Psychic to see where this was heading. Women of mystery, and Miss 'only  
known as' Kendra, was certainly one of them, was every mans downfall...  
as he and Nick had been all to well aware of before.   
  
Shaking his head ruefully, he summoned the memory of Alex's scowl at  
Nicks sudden preoccupation with the new recruit. Even though he loved  
Alex like a daughter, he knew that any relationship but platonic in the  
Legacy was forbidden regardless of the circumstances. In Alex and Nicks  
case, it was a combination. Whether it was the bond they shared  
because of Alex chose Nick to feed on, when she was temporarily turned  
into a vampire or the intellectual and emotional one they shared as the  
youngest members (besides kat) of the Legacy - he couldn't be sure.   
Fighting the need to play Devils advocate and see what he could force  
the normal unruffled Alex into doing. Chuckling, he picked up the phone  
and dialed.   
  
***  
  
Sunnydale High  
Willow Rosenberg stood on the threshold, her long hair kept braided  
tightly to her head, her frame lankier than usual. She had lost weight  
and her posture was like she had both aged 20 years and become more  
beautifully languid at the same time. Willow didn't feel it. It felt so  
strange to be so wary in the place you always took strength from. Buffy  
called her name, and it was like a physical slap across the face. She  
could do nothing but nod, and not look towards the blond whom she loved  
more than life.  
  
Buffy waited for her to enter. When she made no move, she finally  
realized why - and it wounded her more than any toll, she would have to  
pay for being the Slayer.   
  
"You are invited in, Willow." She croaked huskily, trying to get the  
words past the lump in her throat. She watched her push past the barrier  
into the room and wearily come forward.   
  
She didn't mean to begin the peace talks with a catalyst, but it just  
seemed to be that way. "Angel..."  
  
Buffys' throat tightened convulsively, she held her hand up, making her  
stop. "Don't mention his name here - not today."  
  
"We need to talk about this...."  
  
Buffy sneered resentful. "Yeh, well... you didn't seem too, when  
you were restoring *him*."  
  
"We already went over this...." Willow replied much sharper than she  
intended it to sound. "Can we just *talk*..."  
  
Buffy suddenly felt trapped. "I wish I could," she said half-heartedly,  
"but I'm on my way out... you know, HUNTING vampires and stuff?" She  
made certain to glare at the redhead before taking off in the direction  
of the nearest cemetery. After a few steps down the corridor, she  
regretted her hasty words. She was about to turn back, when she felt a  
figure move behind her.   
  
... "Buffy, please wait. I want to apologize for what I did." Buffy  
stood her ground, her back facing one of the best friends she ever had  
in this whole world. Willow came to stand in front of her.   
  
"Willow, where does your loyalties lie now? Because if it is to *him*,  
then we have nothing more to say to each other." A stricken look crossed  
the hackers face.   
  
"Where it has always been," she replied quietly. "With you and the  
slayerettes including Angel..." Buffys' eyes narrowed in a disbelieving  
stare, then took off again.  
  
"Nice emotional head kick in, Willow" She hissed, throwing her weight  
against the glass doors leading into the quad. "Consider it a get well  
gift, because you'll not get another one, Red." Buffy shot back as the  
glass shattered and she ran into the approaching darkness, no longer  
caring if she was hunting or being hunted. She just wanted the pain of  
loosing those she loved, to stop.  
  
Willow flowed after her, indignation taking her quickly towards the  
retreating blond. With an almighty crash, Willow rammed Buffy in the  
back and she hit a headstone with the full force of a vampire bad mood.  
Buffy flipped back, twisting her bones to snap back into place without  
pain or breakage. The best thing about being a slayer was the power of  
being nimble and resilient. She no longer saw her best friend, not a  
vampire either - just some creature maddeningly between both. "You wanna  
learn what it is to fight with me on the other side, Willow?" She  
hissed, gathering her wits about her. "Bring it on!" With that she  
launched herself at the redhead and took her to the ground in a howling  
miasma of betrayal, given appalling utterance.  
  
***  
End of 5 


	6. 

******  
  
The grim battle raged -   
  
With a face full of blood and pain, Willow dodged a slam kick and  
countered a blow to her rivals face, sending her crashing into a nearby  
tree.  
  
Buffy was hurt, shaken by the terrible sorrow and guilt that showed  
briefly in her reflection before she regained control. She needed them  
to fight, she wanted to speak angrily and madly but In truth, she  
listened to her best friend and knew what she heard was from the heart.  
Albeit a vampire one.  
  
"When I needed you most, you were someone else, somewhere else. I would  
have given anything to be there with you," Willow continued, but her  
expression seemed softer, her tone less accusatory. They came to stand  
in front of the other, but it was hard to be angry with someone up  
close. "I brought him back, because he was the last thing I had left of  
you, that you loved."  
  
"And I saw you die," Buffy abruptly countered. "on the ground surrounded  
by flames, tears and devoured by the man I loved with all my heart."  
Buffy cried out, unable to hold back any longer. "I never wanted to see  
that! And I sure as hell, didn't want to be a part of it. But I was...  
because you forced me to be!"   
  
"The knowledge that my actions put you with the forces of darkness is  
the most heartbreaking revelation of my life." Buffy curled her fingers  
over Willows cool flesh and willed it to be warm again. "Even though, I  
know.. Giles said you're only half vampire, It has changed us forever."  
  
Willows gut tightened. "I'm still Willow!" she protested, "Hacker,  
friend, Wicca sage.."  
  
Buffy seemed to falter, but she knew the deeper forboding sense. "My  
heart tells me that, but...."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Willow, I'm never not the Vampire Slayer when I'm with you now. I try  
to cut off what senses and urges I have when you're near, but I can't.  
You are the physical representation of everything that I oppose, that we  
used to oppose together. It was like that with Angel, and it's now like  
that with you. and this time you broke the hearts of those who loved  
you."  
  
Willow cringed. "So I'm not the effort for you to try?! I'm the 'enemy'  
right?"  
  
Buffy grabbed Willows wrists pulling her closer than before. Eye to eye.  
"You are my balance in life. My best friend. I could not be the Slayer  
without you.. and most of all, I am not 'Buffy Summers' without you.  
You'll never be my enemy, but we cannot be what we were." Buffy watched  
the recognition sadly touch her green eyes, and Buffy leaned in to rest  
her head on Willows shoulder. "I don't know about anything else, or what  
will happen.. but I know one thing - I miss you. I love you and I can't  
loose you again."  
  
Buffy found herself suddenly scooped up into an embrace that threatened  
to crush her. "Funny," Willow said, against her hair. "I was just about  
to say the same thing." she buried herself into her friends embrace.  
"Let's go home."  
  
There was still so much to sort out, but for now the ice had broken and  
each woman found her place in the other. For now, it was the only wish  
the Gods heard.  
  
In the trees above the cemetery, hidden by darkness and draped in  
shadows, Angel watched his ex-girlfriend Buffy, and his best friend,  
Willow walk away, their arms wrapped around the other. He had seen the  
fight, and for a moment he feared that Buffy would take her life. Angel  
floated down, considering this moment. Willow was like a small piece of  
sanity in the flood, that had followed soon after her unexpected change.  
He took upon the guilt, and when she was restored her soul - she didn't  
blame him, as she should - but herself. A year he searched for her. And  
it took nearly as long to get her home again.   
  
These thoughts darkened his mood quickly. As much as he wanted Willow to  
have happiness, he couldn't bring himself to let her go in order for  
that to happen. Their connection had deepened... both to each other and  
to the hidden bonds that only Willow knew of. She promised one day to  
reveal the source of his sudden power, but said it was safer for all  
concerned that she remain a secret. After all, they had the rest of  
their unlives to grow stronger. Stronger? he didn't know what for, but  
trusted her decision. It was his source of balance.   
  
A soft voice touched his mind, soothing and calm. His eyes fluttered  
closed, strengthening the bond between him and Willow. [Angel?] there  
was a moment of hesitation, then he felt a deep sense of calm and  
happiness flow through him.. he knew it was because of Buffy and...  
something else? Because of HIM? [I could never have gotten this far if  
it wasn't for you Angel. You are very much a part of this happiness.]  
There was another silence then she continued. [And I will do everything  
in my power to make sure that you are with me in everything. That is a  
promise.]  
  
Angel didn't need to speak what he felt or thought, she immediately knew  
through the connection they shared. He drank in the sound of her  
telepathic voice and the joy she felt with being forgiven and forgiving  
in return. He longed for that most. Walking towards the Bronze, he  
smiled again.. very much aware that in all his years he had always been  
alone. This time, he wouldn't be.   
  
***  
  
The Legacy Island.  
  
Kendra took a deep breath filling her lungs and let it out slowly.  
Usually the exercises helped her to focus, preparing her mentally for  
each new day. But today was a little different. She opened her eyes, and  
took in the scene before her. In front of her the San Francisco bay  
stretched out like watered topaz silk. But the jewel, upon which evil  
was fought was the circa 1900 castle. Ivy covered the historical walls,  
curling up to the two storey windows.   
  
The Legacy - a secret-society that has been in existence since the sixth  
century. It had its beginnings in England, where the Ruling House  
now resides. The Legacy is dedicated to collecting knowledge and  
artifacts, solving paranormal problems and protecting mankind from  
supernatural evils. Over time, the membership expanded around the world.  
Legacy "Houses" were set up in other cities and countries. Each house  
has a "Precept" - a leader - that can be identified by his/her insignia  
ring. Dr. Derek Rayne is the Precept of the San Francisco House, set in  
a castle-like mansion here on Angel Island in the Bay. Derek, Nick,  
Alex, Rachel and Philip work under the guise of the Luna  
Foundation, a philanthropic institution which collects artifacts and  
antiquities. Together, The Legacy search and uncover a secret world of  
terror as they resolve to defend the world against evil and darkness.   
  
Now she was a part of it, or soon would be.. if only she could get past  
her doubt.  
  
She closed her eyes again, closing that part of herself out, instead  
imagining the wide humid vista of Jamacia in her minds eye. After a  
while she slipped into a deep state of meditation, her moves becoming so  
natural and fluid that to anyone watching it would be hypnotic.   
  
Approaching footsteps made her turn at the sound, and faced her teacher  
and friend.  
  
"Father," she smiled, coming to stand in front of him. Nick also  
finished his routine and greeted him in kind. "Philip," he acknowledged.  
After a covert look passed between them, Nick grinned. "Boss wants me,  
right?"  
  
Philip laughed. "When doesn't he?" The two grasped hands firmly and Nick  
nudged Kendra teasingly in the ribs. "Tomorrow morning same time, yeh?"   
  
"Affirmative, Sir."  
  
Both men chuckled. She was stubborn in ways of discipline, even more so  
than Nick was. Nick chanced a pleading gaze at his friend. "Would you  
talk to her about this?," he chuckled. "She's gonna have me as precept  
if this keeps up!"  
  
Philip grinned as his friend departed. He turned back to Kendra, and  
marveled at her recovery. She was toned, lean and in fighting form.  
Fighting demons had been the best medicine. The fire returned, and her  
first encounter only led to her becoming more and more vibrant. She  
didn't know it, it didn't occur to her that she was exquisite. Men all  
around her would clamor to be beside her. But she wasn't interested..  
something else drove her to a duty she could not deny.  
  
"I was wondering if we could talk... away from prying minds," Father  
Philip Callgan joined her, and motioned for them to walk awhile."  
  
"Yeah, I noticed," She observed, throwing a covert glance towards the  
second story window. Her fingers slid up to her throat, looking for the  
small silver cross she had long discarded. Philip knew the object well,  
and the deeper meaning of its loss and the importance. He had suspicions  
that she was still governed by her first duty, the vow she couldn't  
ignore. Nick confirmed as much, when she bypassed the high security  
systems to go hunting again, and he caught her outside the grounds on a  
newly installed hidden camera. It was a deeply intristic value. One he  
was all too familiar with. "Do you want to talk about what's bothering  
you?"   
  
Kendra lowered her head. "Nothing." Placing her arms at the back of her,  
linking her hands behind her, aware she was giving too much away with  
her unconscious actions, "Dere is a lot to weigh."   
  
Philip took a few steps away from his friend, before whirling to face  
her, making Kendra stop in her tracks and look up at him. "It's an  
emotional decision..."  
  
Kendra pushed away from the tone of this conversation, forehead creasing  
into a deep frown. "Emotions are far outdated. dey make you weak.. I  
gave in once, and I guess we all knew how dat turned out." She looked up  
into his eyes. He was a handsome Irish priest, in his early 30s but  
looking more like a man in his 20s. He was her teacher, so that bond was  
something that would never change. She gave him her trust, so shared the  
part of her that was hers alone. "I obeyed orders without question, as  
da Slayer should. A slip might have meant death. I don't know who else  
to be, than The Vampire Slayer."  
  
"No one is asking you to be any differently," he said. "But you have to  
decide, Kendra," Philip urged, moving forward and wrapping an arm around  
her shoulder, even if Kendra simmered by the act. She never liked  
being hugged. "You know I understand the conflict. I asked Derek the same  
thing. Why The Legacy has fought evil for nearly 3,000 years without my  
help. I didn't see why they needed it now."   
  
"What did he say?"  
  
"Where ever evil bides, so must we. Parish Priest or Vampire Slayer - we  
do what we must, where we can. My vow to God was stronger, but I  
understood the importance of The Legacy. It is why I stayed. The Legacy  
battles evil in every form it takes. We know it's out there. It's a part  
of the mortal world. And if I've learned anything, it is that the last  
battleground must be here," he says, placing his hand over her mind,  
"and here." and pointed to his own heart.   
  
She smiled. Derek had a habit of being for truth, even if it wasn't what  
we wanted it to be. In truth, she wanted to stay. They each gave her  
something of themselves that made her better for it. Not alone, even  
though she had her space, they were her guide. For a moment she wondered  
if this is what Buffy had in the Slayerettes. Philip was impressed with  
the calm determination within her eyes. "Dum spiro, spero" she  
whispered, taking Philips lead back to the house. Philip beamed her a  
fantastic grin, glad to see she remembered. "while I breathe, I hope."  
  
Together, they climbed the stairs - home.   
  
***  
Dereks Journal  
Tonight we have a new member among our ranks. Her bonds were  
instantaneous, much to my apprehension - mainly for reasons, I cannot  
speak of, dare not speak of.  
  
Philips connection is the strongest. It is almost like he has taken on  
the role of an unofficial watcher, someone she deeply admires and  
respects. She would be embarrassed to hear it, but I believe Philip  
feels the same way about her. The bond is also about the conflicts they  
keenly share, of where their loyalty is divided between the church and  
The legacy. I'm not sure if they will ever resolve this, but together  
they just might. She is also a master at linguistic and ancient  
translations.   
  
Nicks reaction to her was one of suspicion. His loyalty to myself and  
the members are indisputable. But like the rest, they had trouble  
keeping their distance from her. They each saw a reflection of  
themselves. For Nick it was his brash, impulsive "Hit 'em, and then ask  
the questions" attitude. Nick and Kendra complimented the other as well  
as competed. Her mastery of skills is astounding.  
  
Rachel saw Kendra as her daughter in 15 years. Beneath her feisty  
exterior, she was in fact quite vulnerable emotionally, and she had  
always found it difficult or impossible to relate to anyone her own age.  
Rachels maternal instinct had gone on overdrive. Besides the obvious  
medical miracle she was - Kendra provided her with a intimate look of a  
shy and orphaned girl in the body of a sentinel. A Jamaican Joan of Arc.  
That bond was the most difficult for Kendra, and the most rewarding.  
Kat, Rachels 13 year old daughter, on the other hand, had no qualms in  
accepting her in. Kendra is still at a loss on how to deal with  
children, but she has many times shown compassion and concern for the  
little one - before gruffly denying so and storming off to hit  
something. Hard.   
  
Alex. It is strange that she is the most distant lately. They share many  
things, but I assume the vampire hunter and the vampire (albeit briefly)  
can never be bedroom buddies. I doubt this will be a problem, but it  
does make for some interesting discussions. Her knowledge of the occult  
is limitless. She has become, quite franky, irreplaceable.  
  
And myself. *changes to secret code* She reminds me of a saying... A  
soul touched by others, but never held. The distance she must place  
between herself and others, but still need so much to be a part of a  
group. As I do. She lives veracity just like I live for honor. It wasn't  
just what we did. It is who we are. With this in mind, I rang Ruling  
House and pulled some strings. Kendra will spend five years with us  
before she has to train at the Academy. Another 10 years before she will  
become Precept - which I have secretly known from the start. I told only  
one other person, and that was my precept, William Sloan. My confession  
was a difficult one.. confusing to whom she was. Not of God. Not of  
hell. And neither between.. and William became embittered with the idea  
of evil ruling London House. A while after, I discovered, to my horror  
that the parents of the immortal precept was killed in an accident. He  
denied it - but I couldn't be sure. From then on, I gave only what I had  
too and nothing more. I'm not sure which is worse - to know he could  
kill without the whole truth, or that those around him could execute so  
easily without him knowing. Either way, he protected his own.  
  
And I have every intention of doing so. I am sending her on her first   
outside assignment to a place in Seacouver, hunting reputed beheadings  
and strange forks of lightning raining from the sky. Usually, I would not  
send her out so soon on a task such as this, but my gut instincts tell me   
differently. I have a feeling, that her life will once again change.  
  
For better, or for worse, Kendra alone will determine the path. Her  
revenge for the hand behind her murder, suddenly fallen in the surge  
of hope and a restored destiny long since believed lost.   
  
"In the absence of revenge, perhaps the best you can ask for is Justice."   
***  
The end 


End file.
